The Darkness Within
by Rosetta Brunestud
Summary: "Dad said that if I couldn't save you, I might have to kill you, Sammy". The Winchesters never thought that those words could come back to haunt them, not after all this time. Tag to season 6, spoilerish. Dark story.


_A/N: These characters don't belong to me! Who am I kidding? Lol Nothing in this world belongs to me! xD So, all credits go to the real owners of Supernatural and I'm not making any money from this… If you want to sue me, you will have a big surprise, because I don't have a damn thing! __Lol_

_A/N 2: Tag to season 6, huge spoilers. This story is pretty dark… I hope you don't mind! ^^ I promise to make something happier someday, but… My inspiration is REALLY picky and, let's just say, it's a dangerous creature! xD _

_Oh, and there's a little language warning, like the F… word! Sorry, it's Dean Winchester, after all *sigh* But it's not too bad, don't worry. I'm warning, anyway! Lol And I'm not a native English speaker… So, there might me mistakes here. Please, let me know when you find one, it'll help me improve and I don't mind. Just… Be nice, please! xD_

_**The Darkness Within**_

_By Rosetta_

_He just sat there..._

In front of the window, eyes that didn't really stared at anything. He just sat there, without doing a thing all day, locked inside himself, trying to protect himself from the pain of the memories that he brought up for stupid and foolish curiosity.

He only stood there, day after day. His body couldn't seem to obey his commands, not from behind the fog he created to protect himself from the pain, physical pain so profound which stopped him from thinking, breathing, screaming! Nothing seemed enough, only the haziness that kept him away from his own life, lost forever in his own hell.

Somewhere inside his head, he understood that he should fight it. Someplace he still tried to escape, but, every time he dared, the pain resurfaced and he screamed until he didn't have voice no more. His open eyes didn't look at the present, but at the torture so real that seemed to be happening all over again within him.

He could vaguely hear the calls of a voice which he would know anywhere: a voice that would put him to sleep when he was a kid and had nightmares; that would always warn him from dangers; which had this special tone, exclusively destined to him. He could feel it warming him up inside, bringing a different kind of fire that seemed to consume him whole.

The sound was able to bring him a little more to the real world and, sometimes, he could spend some minutes aware of the reality around him. He could look into his brother's green eyes and see the pain and helplessness inside them, the despair of the hands around him, silently begging him to come back, to let him help and protect him like he was supposed to do. Begging his little brother to get out of the lair, so dark and comfy, and go to the daylight, promising he would be there to protect him, as he always was, and that he would not fail.

But he knew he couldn't give in to the plea in the desperate eyes of his older brother, not after the wall Death put up in his memory had been damaged. He knew he could never be strong enough to live by himself, to get away from the dark corner where he now hid. That was why he'd never put too much effort to answer to his pleas, knowing he wouldn't have had the strength to carry on. The best he could do was look in his eyes and squeeze his hand. Seemed like that was enough for his brother to feel a little happier and that was enough for him too.

Then he would go back to that haze, the reclusion of his own mind. It was comfortable there; he knew he had to take this new reality as his. He knew that, no matter how much it hurt, his brother was alone again in that fight. And it didn't matter how much he worried about him, he assured himself time and time again that it would be alright and soon he would left him and be free. He knew that someday Dean wouldn't be here anymore and then would let himself be carried away from this prison which was now his body, finally free too.

He had no more recollection of time. The days and months were slowly blending together. For all he knew, it could have been years ago since the last time he resurfaced. Since he looked inside the profound eyes of his brother and left him with one more silent goodbye, like he always did. He fought again, facing the pain it would bring. Fought against the memories from which he hid himself for this long. He accepted them with good grace just to have a glimpse at the real world. Only a moment of full consciousness, even if he couldn't do more than open his eyes and barely move his fingers, just enough to show Dean he was there.

For that reason he fought and finally was able to see through his eyes again. But he didn't find the usual warmth. He couldn't find his touch, his voice, his despair. There was simply nothing. Feeling his heart beating faster, wondering what could have happened to Dean… Would he have just given up on him? How long had it been? Maybe he was... No, no, he had to be alive!

His fast breathing was, on a certain way, a good sign. It proved that he still had some resemblance of control over his body, even if he couldn't move much more than his eyes, which searched all his field of vision, without success. He fought with everything he had to stay there and when, exhausted, he had to retreat inside himself, eyes full of tears that wouldn't fall, letting the numbness take him away, even with all his worry and angst, locking himself up in his own cave where he rested, hiding in his darkness.

The next time when he managed to come back, he felt a peace taking over his body. Those same hands that held him every time he fell, which took care of his injures and pulled him close to his hug all those times when he was so little, were touching him again. His strong voice repeated his name, like all the other times, but it seemed more gentle now, his moves more measured, without the same despair as before. He wondered, briefly, how long has it been since he saw his brother the last time.

When his vision focused on his older brother, he felt his heartbeat going wildly inside his chest. A whole new kind of despair took him, a fear so profound that he could have sworn he was shaking: Dean was wrecked! That was the only definition for the paleness of his face and the sound of his breathing. There were deep dark marks under his eyes, clear signs of the exhaustion he could clearly see in his eyes, which seemed permanent in his face. Looking at the ceiling, he clearly noticed they were on a hospital, the structure easy enough to recognize after all this years when he would go to these places, more often than he should.

He tried to beg for answers with his eyes. He wanted to ask him so much, but he just couldn't move! He locked himself so tight that there was no way out. For the first time, he wished fervently to be able to speak all these words locked inside his throat, which he knew he would never be able to say, no matter how hard he fought against his own cage.

- Hey, little brother! – Dean spoke, looking only sad and acquiescent – It's been a while. – He held his hand, tightly – Look, I… I miss you, kiddo! – His eyes filled with tears and he grumbled – Dammit, dude, I'm turning in a full-on chick! – He breathed deeply, as if he wanted to calm himself down – So… It's been a while since you've been like this. I think you know what I mean. It's been ten years, Sam! Can you believe it? Your brother is more than forty, man! – He smiled, softly, his eyes piercing his brother's, knowing that in this moment he could hear his words.

Sam wanted to yell at him! He didn't want to hear anything about himself, not now! Even if it was good to know how long it has been, he was desperate to know what was happening to his family, the only person in his life who was left. And, even though it was selfish, he knew he couldn't stand the idea of fighting all this way back to know that Dean wouldn't be back, ever. The quiet acceptance from before gave way to profound despair when he thought that maybe he would be forced to survive without him there. That maybe he couldn't just get rid of the binds and move on.

- You know, Sammy... You remember when I said that we, hunters, don't live long? – He gave a little smile – I know, I have the biggest mouth! I think I got to the end of the line, Sam… I don't have any way to get out of this one. You can't trick death and keep on living forever, right? – He turned his eyes away for a second, and then he turned them back, the next second – I was afraid this day would come. I just wanted you to be back, man! I wanted so much for you to have a life without me... – A sparkle of anger shone in his eyes, the emotion getting stronger, even more clear to Sam that knew him so well – So I think that's it, the way it ends, huh? The ending of all this crap that happened to us… Why the damn prophet didn't warn us he was writing a fucking tragedy, huh? Why wait, and wait, and want so hard that… Dammit, dude! I did all I could to save you! I swear I did! And I would sell my soul over again to fix you, but... Nobody wants me anymore! Not now... – He brought him closer to his chest, like he used to do when they were kids – I don't know what to do here, Sammy… Give me a clue! I'll do whatever you want me to; just tell me where you want to be when I die. I can't leave you alone in a cheap motel room, without anyone to look out for you.

For the first time since the wall came down, the man felt tears running through his unmoving face. He wished he could tell Dean that he wanted to be with him, no matter what. He wanted to tell him to take him along, as he always did, to guide him through the path in front of them. He knew it was too much to ask. But he also knew that Dean would understand and respect his decision, as he always did. He knew that the devotion the man possessed had no limits.

Squeezing his hand, softly, the only move he was able to make, he looked deep inside his eyes and used all the telepathic strength to pass him the message. He tried to face the pain of more memories, if only it could bring him a little more control back. He wished Dean would understand. He wanted to explain it to him, use his mouth, form words that were stuck inside his chest way too long… He knew it wasn't possible and relied on the way he could ever talk silently, without using words, to get his message through. And he wished, with all his might that, one more time, his brother would understand.

- You wanna come with me? – He seemed shocked, trying to understand if it was really his wish – No, Sammy, you can't do that! Don't be silly, bro! Come on, I told a million times already, that I would only kill you if… - He stopped, scared with his own conclusion – If I couldn't save you… No, Sammy, no way! I'm not doing it!

How he wished he could react right in this moment! How he wanted to tell a truth or two to Dean! How he wished to be able to throw his own words back against him, prove his argument, think things through together, discussing it like they used to do, using that fantastic dynamic that made them great hunters! But he couldn't and his weak link with reality was indeed getting out of focus, slowly but surely. He didn't have much time, and wished that his message had been clear enough, that his eyes could show how sure he were of his last wish.

- No, Sammy! No, no, no... Please!

That plea stayed with him, even in the comfy darkness where he was hiding inside his brain. He wanted to go back. Wanted to see Dean one more time! He couldn't stand the idea of waking up in a psychiatric hospital, alone! He couldn't imagine never being comforted by the same words, not hear him humming softly on his ear one of those songs Dean liked so much. He simply didn't know how to live without his older brother, his anchor that made him strong enough to fight his own demons to reach the surface.

He fought again to come back, fending off his own fears. And when he ruptured the barrier he put inside himself, he was alone again. The panic took him for some seconds, until he felt Dean's hands touching him, like always, and found the same look as before. He looked even more exhausted. A tiny trail of blood ran down the corner of his mouth, which he didn't seem to notice nor care about.

- Sammy... – His eyes were full of tears, desperate, his hands shaking badly – Are you sure you wanna leave with me? I… Think this is it, little bro – He gave a tiny smile that never quite reached his eyes – I don't want to do this… But I promised. And I think I finally get it… What dad meant… When he said that if I couldn't save you… I'd have to kill you. – The green eyes looked deep into his, speaking seemed hard on him, between the tremors and harsh breathing – You sure? – He squeezed his hand. Yes, he was sure. He wouldn't be alone anymore or lost in this dark and cold world – So, I guess this is goodbye, right Sammy? Let's make it a 'see you soon', ok?

With these words, he felt the prickle of a needle in his arm. The little itch was a distraction to his broken heart. Dean came back in his field of vision, grabbing his own gun, looking to his little brother, one last time:

- Sorry, only had one dose – He saw the same small smile, putting the gun to his head and trembling slightly – See you on the other side, dude.

He heard the blast of the gun. He heard the sound of his brother's lifeless body hitting the ground at his side. In one scared movement, he was able to move his hand enough to grab his already cold hand. The freezing tendrils of fears ran through him when he couldn't feel his brother's living presence by his side, wondering for an irrational moment what would be his life like without him, if the plan failed. He felt himself go numb on a different way and the world around him started to dim and fade. Then he knew this was the end. Knew he was free of this body and this misery in his life.

He had no more fear, suddenly. Letting his eyes fall shut, he remembered the last time he's been to heaven. All he had to do was follow the road. In a certain point, he would find his big brother. He had no doubt. How could there be a heaven without his big brother in it, anyway? Smiling, ready to find Dean again, Sam left, sure that soon they would be together, like they wouldn't have been in a very, very long time.

_THE END_

Final note: _Well, guys, I don't know what possessed me to write this one... I know even less what possessed me to make me have the guts to post it! But it must have been some demon whispering in my ear! __Yep, has to be it! Lol_

_I hope you liked it! I think Dean sounded a little OOC, but you wouldn't mind, would you? LOL OMG! I hope you don't mind! xD I have to say that I'm a little embarrassed of this one ahaha... Please, tell me what you think about it before I drown in my own hesitation and delete it! __Lol_

_So... Some of you might question if Sam and Dean would go to heaven... They made so many things and, in the end, what Dean did on this story wasn't only suicide (even if he was already dying, he wanted to go with Sam at the same time and sinned), but he was also responsible for his brother death. Well, everyone have their own beliefs and I don't want to offend anyone's religion, but I like to think that the guy upstairs can see shades of gray and will be able to see who are the heroes and the villains here… I want to believe that with all the good things they already did, those two deserve to go to heaven as no other human being ever will be able to! I want to believe that they'll have their little piece of paradise together, like they were meant to do all along._

_I'm really hoping this is worth your review! ^^ Only one, pretty please! Make my day happier! =) Can you see the link Bellow saying: click me, click me! Go, you can do it! Lol_

_Kisses and hope that you guys come back for more stories, even if this one is not my best, I admit. XD_

_See ya, thanks for reading! XoXo_

_Rosetta_


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